an hour ago.
Passing through the maze-like corridor, two figures ran silently. The dim and pale firelight cast their figures on the ground, and the smaller shadow jumped up from time to time, and whenever it returned to the ground again, black and red blood was bound to splash on the wall.
The guards who were split into several pieces instantly disintegrated into pieces of meat, and then wriggled together. But before they could fuse together, the exposed core was crushed by the man who came after—
Randy Panther was in a bad mood.
Just as they had planned, Mora made all the preparations and finally got the key to unlock the collar. As long as they are alive, the plan can continue.
Look now, they are indeed still alive, and once again ushered in the expected failure. It seemed that the demon of Wither Castle had no extra sympathy to wield, but it didn't manage to hurt Mora either - thanks to the Dragon's Breath dagger or not, it was the best he could think of.
It was himself who really brushed past Death, Randy held back a bitter sigh.
The two killers rushed to the wall that seemed to be a dead end without hesitation, the illusion was broken, and they successfully returned to the starry night sky - years of investigation were not wasted, and almost all the variables were within their expectations.
It's only one step away now.
The patrolling puppet team staggered past, and the two squeezed into the depression of the building that had been calculated. At this moment, the curse came in handy. They don't need a full two-person space.
"This distance should be enough, we have to activate those magic stones." Mora muttered, with a pale face that symbolized depression. She looked like she wanted a hug, but ended up stretching one arm and pressing the upper arm of the other. "I really want to get out of this hell... Randy?"
The tall killer lowered his head and did not answer.
"You're blaming yourself for killing Ramon? It's not like you," Mora said dryly. "Ramon is a nice guy, but in a place like this..."
"I didn't kill him." Looking at the distant puppet team, Randy kept his voice low, "Actually on the contrary, he could have killed me."
Mora frowned, stopped the movement of her hands, and pursed her mouth tightly. She stared at her lover's swollen wrist—she could only do some emergency spell healing, so that it could barely function normally.
"Then he… conceded defeat." Randy flexed his wrist. "How stupid."
The female killer looked away. "...how stupid."
They walk in the dark, long ago not counting the number of lives on their hands. No one knows better than a killer how little life is. Blades down the throat, precise thrusts, thrusts, curses, even malicious words—they're as fragile as church stained-glass windows.
When that moment comes, there is no dying confession, no decent memory. There was only crying, disbelief, and animal-like struggle, and then those lives came to an abrupt end.
Taking the lives of fellow citizens is numbing. Even if the targets are screened in advance, even if they know that most of them are deserved. As if separated from the world by a thick membrane, many things gradually became indifferent—
including their own lives.
They probably know that, thought Randy. They know very well that they can no longer fall in love with others and can no longer leave this nightmare. Wake up every day, breathing, heartbeat all become some kind of task. The love is still there, but they themselves are becoming less and less human. And as the situation worsened, they gradually became the only ones who could understand each other.
Vicious circle.
Do your best to retain the remaining moral sense, and help people who will not harm your own interests. Relying on this practice to gain a little warmth, it gives the illusion that he is still living a normal life.
And once the other party touches their own interests...
Randy looked down at his scarred fingers. "Next target... any idea?"
"There will always be," Mora said.
"... Since we're not in a hurry, let's play the 'dangerous game' again, shall we?"
"Are you crazy? In this kind of place? We're not stupid young people anymore. Raising the difficulty out of thin air will only... just... I know, you don't want to activate the magic stone inside and trigger the martial law alarm."
"Um."
"Ramon was thrown into the furnace and it was only a matter of time before he died."
"I know."
"Don't do meaningless things." Mora reminded dryly.
"If a person is pierced through the heart, he will die, right?"
"certainly."
"Karamon isn't dead." Randy pulled out a wry smile. "I even think he's breathing right now—in that furnace. Mora, you know what the furnace will be like after martial law. The gatekeeper will temporarily cut off all control. , close it completely, and the inside of the furnace will get out of control." And Ramon was thrown down alive, maybe the gatekeepers have more plans.
"Anyway, the stove will eventually swallow everything." Mora's tone was flat, "You must trigger martial law to distract the group of goddamn puppets. Otherwise, the puppets and the guards will rush up together, although it can be dealt with... But that is definitely not the best. solution.”
"I will protect you, you will not be hurt."
"Of course I know, but you will. Your... stupid decision like this can keep Ramon alive for a few minutes at most." The petite female killer raised her head, "Just a few minutes, does it make a difference? It really doesn't make sense—"
"Yes." He reached out, stroked the other's hand lightly—and passed through it in vain, like it was just a phantom. "Aren't we doing 'meaningless' things all the time?"
It's okay to do one more thing, just add a few more wounds.
The female killer laughed suddenly.
It wasn't a wry smile, it wasn't a big laugh, it was a strange, even childish smile. "Your words don't match your dead expression at all, stupid stake," she murmured. "You… kinda look like you before."
Yes, now that I think about it, their life is like a joke. But their destination has long been set by the devil, and they can only run straight in that direction. She has forgotten the mood to slow down and take detours, and even wants to continue to move forward towards that impossible goal.
In a sense, they were the same young fool in the crucible.
"Let's go." The female killer turned out of the depression in the building and stretched out her right hand, like an invitation to dance. "You have to protect me!"
"Um."
The puppets arrived at their speculative time and, as calculated, found them exactly. Human-shaped monsters flooded in like a tide, and the heavy shield was thrown away, occasionally splashing a little blood belonging to human beings.
"It's so annoying!" Mora panted, cutting off a puppet's arm. "When this is over, you'll have to treat me to Trevor's cake! If it weren't for Ramon, we might be in the hotel by now—how long would it take? God, these things are tough."
"Behind me," Randy said calmly, the shield crushing the metal golem to the ground. "Just be patient, as long as half an hour..."
Their field of vision was suddenly empty.
The metal puppets fell to the ground, the shiny parts quickly decayed, and with a harsh hiss, they quickly turned into a pool of debris. A black figure suddenly fell to the ground - a pale young man raised his head, his hands were empty, his black-gray robe almost melted into the night.
"Ramon." The stranger pinched the last puppet, and they watched it turn to ashes. "You know Oliver Ramon?"
"where is he?"
Nemo didn't know if he could still think clearly.
Now he does not have the ability to forget, he will not forget where the star lit up, and naturally knows where the Withering Castle is at this moment. But the star that represented Oliver kept dimming—as he ripped apart the sky all the way to the mountain-like castle, that star had… no longer glowed.
It went out.
Choking and dazedness overwhelmed him for a moment. Nemo stopped over the castle, as if pinned in place by a sudden freezing of time. impossible. Not so, he thought slowly.
not like this.
The air was still warm, and the dark blue sky was sprinkled with diamond-like stars. The quaint castles are sleeping among the mountain peaks, which is a very beautiful sight, but he finds them particularly annoying, like delicate desserts growing with mold.
Oliver disappeared
Because they are one step late, they can't meet again? That meeting in the Church of Silent was their farewell
It shouldn't be like this.
Confusion and despair gnawed at his nerves, he almost failed to control his strength, and the whole person fell from the sky. Nemo knew it was time for him to calm down, he knew. But even this time he tried to break his palm, trying to use the pain to calm himself. But that chaotic despair was like a gangrene attached to the bones, which could not be shaken off at all.
until someone mentions that name.
Nemo didn't think much of it. Without thinking whether it was a trap, the opponent was an enemy or a companion, he rushed straight down.
Everything that followed was like a broken and dizzying dream.
The unfamiliar men and women hesitated for a moment, and finally chose to guide him. They took him all the way to his destination. Nemo didn't bother to speculate about the other party's purpose and whether he was lying. He needs a straw, anything.
After all, nothing could hurt him. But his lover may have died in despair—
"Are you Nemo Wright of Tumbleweed?" the man said as he silently broke through the barriers.
"… Yes."
"Mr. Ramon has something to say to you." The man hesitated for a while. "You better... control your strength. Considering your current state, I think you need to listen first."
Nemo stopped for a moment, even breathing. It's like someone cast a petrification spell.
He listened very carefully.
But "the one who used to be a demon king" no longer knows how many people he has killed. Is he really qualified to talk about "principles" now
But he hadn't had time to tell Oliver that "Nimo Wright" wasn't to be believed...he couldn't even believe himself.
How dare that bastard die with such self-confidence and trust.
If a miracle does happen, if they do see each other again, then he'll definitely beat that idiot when they meet again. But when the furnace disappeared, the figure appeared again. He couldn't hold back his emotions at all—
Just as the world answered his wish.
The gray fog dissipated, and with a harsh warning sound, a shadow stood quietly on the empty flat ground. The furnace didn't even leave a wreckage. The man also wore a strange skeleton helmet on his head, and the blood-stained bones covered the upper half of his face. The armor was vaguely that of a silent knight, but it was bumpy and scratched.
And that sword, Nemo had seen its birth with his own eyes.
Even if the breath becomes illegible, even if the power fluctuates erratically and strangely, he will never admit his mistake.
At the intersection of despair and ecstasy, his heart almost exploded. Go to his world, go to his devil. Nemo walked towards the figure, beginning with a calm pace, then galloping.
Now he can't find him in that starry sky, and he doesn't know why the knight's oath was broken. But now those puzzles are no longer important. Nemo hugged the armored figure tightly, and he could hear the familiar heartbeat from the armor.
"Oli," he whispered, "I'm here to pick you up."
And ecstasy is followed by anger and mourning.
"...I'll treat you right now." He said tremblingly, not daring to confirm the other's physical condition again. "You don't move, I..."
At this moment, the person he was hugging finally moved.
Oliver gripped the hilt of the Sword of Rest tightly with his right hand, and gently grasped Nemo's wrist with his left. Beneath the dried blood stains, the engraved mark was still dazzling.
"Nimo." His voice was hoarse and soft. "I love you. I never mentioned that to you, did I?"
"I don't want to erase these wounds... If you're hallucinating, that's the best hallucination ever. If you're not—"
Oliver raised his eyes and looked at the Withered Castle in the night. "Then can you wait for me for a while?"
"We'll talk more after this place disappears."
,Wonderful!
(m.. = )